


A Promise Kept

by goodomensblog (just_quintessentially_me), just_quintessentially_me



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is worried about Aziraphale, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Promises, Spoilers, T.V. Show Spoilers, They're both soft, and Aziraphale is worried about Crowley, and they CANNOT DEAL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_quintessentially_me/pseuds/goodomensblog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_quintessentially_me/pseuds/just_quintessentially_me
Summary: After translating Agnes Nutter's prophecy, Aziraphale and Crowley spend an evening attempting to learn each other's mannerisms:“Dearest Gabriel, it was lovely seeing-”“Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupted. “You cannot sneer when you say ‘lovely’. It makes you seem completely disingenuous.”“That would be because I am completely disingenuous,” Crowley said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Obviously, interacting with a damned - er, blessed - Archangel is going to be about as far from lovely as you can get.”In fact, it would be Hell.And Crowley had experienced more than enough of Hell to know the comparison was no hyperbole. Righteously sure of their divine right, and confident in their inherent superiority, Archangels were a cruel breed.“Well you’re going to have to pretend,” Aziraphale demanded.“What do you think I’m trying to do?”





	A Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr user sawa18 had the most AMAZING headcanon that, after figuring out the prophecy, Aziraphale and Crowley would spend the night in Crowley’s apartment, trying to learn how to act like each other. I loved the idea so much that I absolutely could not stop myself from writing a version.
> 
> So here it is!

“ _Dearest Gabriel_ , it was  _lovely_  seeing-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupted. “You cannot  _sneer_  when you say ‘lovely’. It makes you seem completely disingenuous.”

“That would be because  _I am_  completely disingenuous,” Crowley said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Obviously, interacting with a damned - er, blessed - Archangel is going to be about as far from  _lovely_ as you can get.”

In fact, it would be Hell.

And Crowley had experienced more than enough of Hell to know the comparison was  _no hyperbole_. Righteously sure of their divine right, and confident in their inherent superiority, Archangels were a cruel breed.

“Well you’re going to have to pretend,” Aziraphale demanded.

“ _What do you think I’m trying to do?_ ”

And he  _was_ trying. Crowley had certainly spent enough time around Aziraphale to know his mannerisms. Now it was only a matter of mastering the minutia.

Unfortunately, in this case - the minutia happened to matter a whole lot.

Aziraphale’s lips pressed in a thin, flat line. “Pretend  _better_.”

“Gah-  _I’m trying_ , angel,” Crowley hissed, and stood.

Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, he paced an anxious circle around the chair. His body felt wound up - like a rubber band pulled taut, inches from snapping. His clothes reeked of smoke, and when crossing his eyes, he could still see the remnants of a dark smudge on the side of his nose. Just hours ago they’d averted the apocalypse, and they already had a new obstacle looming before them.

And the stakes were  _high._

Not that the apocalypse hadn’t been a pressing issue.

But this was different.

Sure, the world might be saved - but if they managed to botch their body swapping plan tomorrow, Aziraphale could very well die.  _And then the world didn’t really matter anymore, did it?_

Crowley never claimed to be anything but a selfish bastard.

“Crowley.  _Crowley_.”

A gentle touch broke him from his spiraling thoughts.

Aziraphale held him, soft hands cradling Crowley’s forearms. 

Looking down, Crowley blinked at the touch. His movement stilled.

“Let’s try it again.” Aziraphale said, calm and commanding.

_How could he be so calm?_

Drawing a breath, Crowley closed his eyes. When he opened them, he straightened and pushed back his shoulders.

“Gabriel! It was lovely seeing you,” Crowley tried.

Aziraphale’s sharp blue eyes watched him closely, and as Crowley finished, Aziraphale nodded once, stepping closer. He lifted a hand, and then careful fingers brushed the edge of Crowley’s lips.

Crowley’s breath shuddered and stopped as an agonizingly soft touch pressed at the corner of his mouth.

“Here,” Aziraphale breathed - and he was close enough that Crowley felt it against his skin. “You tend to quirk your lips - right here.” The fingers pressed, a featherlight kiss. “Mine don’t do that.”

At the touch, Crowley  _burned_. If this was death, he welcomed it. 

Swallowing roughly, he managed a weak, “I see.”

“This performance, it’s got to be  _perfect_ Crowley,” Aziraphale said, voice going sharp as his calm facade slipped.

This, Crowley knew. If their plan was to work, there was little room for error.

“I won’t stop practicing until I’ve got it right - you know I won’t,” Crowley said, low. “I’ll make damn sure they don’t discover the ruse and come looking for you, Aziraphale.”

“Come looking for-” Aziraphale’s brows drew together, and he gaped, wordless for a moment. “ _Crowley_ , I’m worried about  _you!_  What if you’re taken to Heaven - and they discover your true identity  _there?_ ”

And then Aziraphale was shifting, his hands brushing Crowley’s face - the touch cradling, _reverent_.

“Crowley, if you are discovered, it would take no more than a  _splash_  of holy water -” His hands trembled. “ _Just a splash_  and you’d be - you’d be -”

Crowley, a being of Hell, unfortunately knew a good bit about torture. Hearing the hitch in Aziraphale’s voice, feeling the terrified tremble in his hands - was a torture worse than any Crowley had previously endured.

Leaning into his angel, Crowley ran his fingers up and over Aziraphale’s arms. Pressing his hands over Aziraphale’s, he twisted their fingers together.

“Angel,” Crowley murmured, dipping down to look Aziraphale in the eye. “Have I  _ever_ let you down?”

Closing his eyes, Aziraphale sighed and then slumped, leaning into the touch. “No. Not when it counts. You do always seem to come through.”

“Besides, I’d never let a bunch of stupid angels get the best of me,” Crowley huffed.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched up and he sighed. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely wouldn’t.”

For a long moment they stood, pressed together in Crowley’s cold, quiet flat.

“I’m worried about you too, angel,” Crowley at last said, gaze tracing the soft lines of Aziraphale’s face. “You face the same danger as me. And I-” he swallowed, “I really don’t like the idea of you going down there.”

“I’m not afraid, Crowley.”

Crowley looked from his furrowed brows, to his bright eyes, and finally down to his set mouth.

“That - or you’re a better actor than me.”

“Both,” Aziraphale concluded with a small smile.

“Sure angel.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said with a breath, “I suppose we’d best get back to-”

Crowley dipped down, and before he could think better of it, pressed a careful kiss against Aziraphale’s lips. 

It was slow, gentle - worshiping.

Crowley eased back, and saw Aziraphale had gone pink.

He cleared his throat. “That was - er - just in case.”

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth, and finally managed, “Just in case? You just said you weren’t going to let me down, Crowley. Was that a lie?”

“No-”

“I want a second kiss. Just like that one-” Aziraphale hesitated, and added, “-maybe a bit longer. And I want it this time tomorrow.”

“You-”

“Can you promise me that kiss, Crowley?” His voice was firm, and his eyes had gone hard.

Crowley at last nodded, and said, voice rough. “Yes - yeah. Alright. I promise.”

“You won’t break it?” And for a horrible second, Aziraphale sounded desperately fragile.

“ _Never._ ”

Aziraphale’s hands squeezed his, then released. His gaze was painfully tender. 

“Good,” he said, quiet.

At that, Crowley straightened. “I’m ready to try again. Watch me?”

Aziraphale nodded.

Drawing back his shoulders, Crowley mentally prepared for a night of practice. Every part of their respective acts would have to be perfect - and he wouldn’t rest until his met Aziraphale’s standards.

He’d made his angel a promise, and he intended to keep it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm on tumblr:
> 
> [goodomensblog](https://goodomensblog.tumblr.com/)  
> or  
> [just-quintessentially-me](https://just-quintessentially-me.tumblr.com/) (main)


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